Harry was annoyed. Though, being thirteen, annoyance was beginning to become a constant in his life. But as Harry was sat at the window-seat of an aeroplane headed from Aberdeen, where he was visiting his gran, back home to Manchester Airport, he was even more annoyed than usual.
It was bad enough that he had to be sat next to a completely frustrating 8 year old who wouldn’t leave him alone on the way up to Aberdeen, two weeks ago, but what if it was someone worse this time? What if it were a screaming baby or a smelly pensioner? Harry hated strangers almost as much as he hated aeroplanes. He whined and complained to his parents the whole drive to the airport, but they insisted he’d be fine, that the flight was only an hour and a half, and that they’d be in the two seats right in front of his.
So when Harry was sat in his seat, stewing in annoyance, arms crossed and brow furrowed, expecting the absolute worst, he was completely caught off guard at who took the seat beside him. The older man, tanned with a trendy haircut and elvish features, sauntered down the aisle before stopping at Harry’s seat and stowing his case above. Harry swallowed a lump down his throat when the man’s shirt rode up a bit as he stood on tip-toe to reach the overhead compartment, revealing his soft yet sexy tummy. As long as the man didn’t speak, kept to himself, Harry thought that maybe this flight would be somewhat bearable.
But of course, Harry didn’t ever have that sort of luck. The man took his seat, spreading a blanket over his lap before turning to Harry and extending his hand. Harry wasn’t one to be rude, so he shook the man’s hand. It was very warm, and very soft and smooth, unlike Harry’s father’s hand, which was hardened with age and callouses.
“I’m Louis,” the older man offered, his voice was a lot more feminine than Harry would have expected.
“Harry,” he replied, before turning around to lean against the window.
“What’s the matter, don’t like me already?” Louis teased in response to Harry’s avoidant body language.
Without turning around to face the man, Harry rolled his eyes and sighed, ignoring him.
“Oh… don’t tell me you like Manure United…” Louis said with mock dissapointment.
Harry whipped his head around to see Louis pointing at Harry’s Manchester United t-shirt. He giggled a bit before jokingly furrowing his eyebrows.
“Why? You a blue?”
“Liverpool, mate.” Louis replied, shaking his head with pride read on his face.
“Even worse!” Harry shook his head, biting back a laugh.
“At least I’m not a glory seeker!” Louis giggled, happy to have helped the younger boy out of his shell, even if there was a bit of rivalry involved.
“At least my team wins!” Harry retorted.
“Oh, now,” Louis held his hands up in defense, “that is low. To be expected of the scum!”
Harry just laughed, rolling his eyes. He felt his cheeks warm up as he looked at the man sat beside him. For a Liverpool supporter, Louis was cute. And nice. And funny. And maybe it was just Harry’s pubescent hormones but he thought maybe he liked Louis.
“You don’t sound like you’re from Liverpool, Lou,” Harry offered questioningly.
He’d been chatting with Louis for what seemed like ages but was probably only 20 minutes. He had found out that the man was a lot older than he’d thought (26) but they liked the same music and both had a thing for sci fi and Agatha Christie novels. He had also found out that he definitely liked Louis.
“That’s cause I’m not,” he replied matter-of-factly, “I live in Crewe.”
“Crewe?!” Harry’s eyes widened and his lips curled into an unfaltering smile, “I live in Holmes Chapel! That’s less than a half-hour drive!”
“It was meant to be,” Louis laughed, slinging an arm around the younger boy.
Harry’s breath caught at the unexpected contact, and damn his teenage libido, he began to go stiff in his pants. He quickly pulled the soft red blanket that Louis had brought off of the man’s body, muttering that he was cold and spreading it neatly across himself, effectively obscuring the potentially embarrassing bulge.
“Er, okay…” Louis narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “I can share, glad you asked.”
“Oh, er, sorry,” Harry bit his lip, looking down.
Louis just smiled, telling the younger lad to forget about it and spread the blanket equally over both of their bodies. It was a little small to stretch the whole way, so Louis pulled up the separating arm-rest, scooted a bit closer to Harry, giving the boy a near heart attack.
Louis pulled the blanket up so that it was draped over his shoulders, the rest hanging down over his body. Harry smiled up and him and Louis smiled back and oh, god, his smile was beautiful. Harry admired the beautiful man’s petal-pink lips and the way the corners of his eyes scrunched up and he didn’t realize he was staring until Louis licked his lips seductively. Harry’s eyes widened in surprise, but before he could process what the man could possibly be thinking, he felt a familiar warm hand rest on his knee.
Harry swallowed hard and shot Louis a questioning look, which he responded to with just a smile and a little scoot closer to the boy. Harry was completely giddy inside and just accepted his incredibly good luck. Sure, the man was double his age, but life is short and he was hot. Harry slid a bit further back until he was leant up against Louis’ side.
He was nearly shaking in arousal when he felt Louis’ smooth hand creeping slowly up his thigh, slipping a couple inches below the hem of his football shorts. Louis rubbed tiny circles in the hairless skin there, eliciting a near-silent groan out of the younger lad.
Coming from a town where everyone his age was either ugly, rude, or taken, Harry had never so much as held another person’s hand. So, suffice to say his lack of experience absolutely paralyzed him. Harry simply took deep breaths and leant further into Louis’ warm touch, thankful that he was lucky enough to have gotten a seat next to the most beautiful man on the plane.
Harry wanted to look up at Louis’ face, to see just how the man was reacting, but he was too nervous. He wanted to touch Louis back, but he was too nervous. And oh god did he want to tell Louis ‘just a little higher,’ or ‘touch me more, please’ but he was far too nervous. He just wanted Louis’ hands all over his body all at once. He wanted those hands to just move. He wanted to be touched.
Louis just continued stroking up and down the top of the boy’s smooth, hairless thigh; he didn’t dare go any further. But just then, and Harry thought he must’ve been fucking blessed or something, the place hit a pocket of turbulence, causing Louis’ hand to ‘accidentally’ fall right onto Harry’s hard groin.
Louis gasped quietly enough to hear Harry’s whispered ‘whoa’, as the lad reflexively bucked up into Louis’ touch. The older bloke took that as his cue to go just a bit further, and he wasn’t even thinking of the consequences or the age gap or the fact that he didn’t even ask Harry if he wanted this, Louis just needed to touch the boy.
He palmed at Harry’s erection through his shorts, light brushes at first, gradually increasing the pressure until he was practically wanking the boy off. Harry leant his head onto the man’s shoulder, letting his eyes close and focusing on taking even breaths to avoid letting out the moans he was desperately holding in. The way Louis’ hand moved between his legs was like nothing he’d ever felt by himself. And strangely enough, the fact that they were in aeroplane seats, with loads of other people (including Harry’s own parents) surrounding them made it even hotter.
Harry let the tiniest of moans escape from between his slack lips when he felt Louis pull his football shorts down just a nudge, taking his briefs down with them. Louis shhh’d quietly in the lad’s ear, reminding him they were in a very public area. Harry nodded into Louis’ arm, more for him to feel rather than see.
His breath caught in his chest as he felt a sensual warmth ensconcing his semi-developed length. Harry was hard as stone, his dick sticking straight up in the air and his balls holding the elastic of his shorts away. Louis’ hand stroked slowly, pulling the foreskin back, then sliding it back up over Harry’s hardness. He continually moved his hand, making Harry’s breathing ragged and uneven, before swirling the pad of his thumb over the slippery precome. Harry involuntarily grunted, and Louis shushed him, looking around nervously to make sure no one heard.
Louis immediately jerked his hand away from Harry’s cock, resting it in his own blanket-covered lap. The younger lad opened his eyes in confusion only to see a red-headed air hostess with a drinks cart stood just in front of them. Harry’s heart slammed in his chest, his pulse resounding in his ears as he waited for the woman to tell them off, or worse, tell his parents.
But, as Harry’s luck would have it, the woman simply asked if they wanted anything to drink. The lads both politely declined and the hostess continued up the aisle. Louis’ eyes were bulging wide as he turned to Harry, exchanging silent expressions of relief.
“I’m going to the loo,” Harry announced quietly as he pulled his shorts back up over his still-hard cock.
Louis brought his knees up to his chest to let Harry out into the aisle, then used all the self-restraint left in him to not turn around and watch the lad’s arse as he walked towards the toilets.
Harry stepped into the tiny loo before sliding the door closed behind him. He heaved a deep sigh as he leant back against the door, attempting to re-oxygenate his lust-fuzzled brain. Harry then turned to face himself in the mirror above the sink, before switching on the taps and splashing his burning cheeks with cool water. He dried his hands off before tossing the brown paper towels into the bin.
Harry unlocked the door and just as he reached to slide it open, it was slammed open hastily from the outside. Harry stumbled backwards in shock, landing on the (fortunately closed) toilet lid. Louis quickly stepped in to the bathroom, shutting and locking the door behind him.
“Lou?” Harry began, a slight scaredness detectable in his faltering voice, “Louis what are you…”
“Shh…” Louis silenced Harry with a finger pressed to the lad’s puffy reddish lips, “Shh baby. The sounds you were making out there and the feel of your little cock in my hand… I just… you made me so horny.”
There was a darkness present in Louis’ eyes and a huskiness in his voice that was a bit frightening to Harry; but most of all, he was just getting more and more turned on with every word that spilt from Louis’ beautiful mouth. As he let the older bloke continue to speak, Harry parted his lips just a bit to let Louis’ finger fall between them; Harry closed his full lips around the digit and soaked it with his saliva, swirling his tongue around it, showing Louis’ what his mouth was capable of.
“The things I want to do to you, mate,” Louis continued, nearly moaning out his words, “god, you’re so young but so sexy. Just, mmm - will you let me?”
Harry barely had time to nod before Louis lunged forward, pressing his lips against Harry’s. He pressed the other lad’s lips open with his own, hastily sliding his tongue onto the other’s. The snog was a messy swirl tongues and dripping wet lips, slick and slippery against each other’s hot mouths. Harry had never kissed or been kissed before this, but Louis would have never guessed so - the boy was clearly skilled, sucking the older lad’s lower lip between his, nipping gently and moaning into Louis’ mouth.
Suddenly Louis’ hands were everywhere - sliding down Harry’s sides, fisting at his shirt and tugging gently as a request for the boy to stand, slipping tenderly beneath the hem of Harry’s ManUtd t-shirt, and pulling it over his head. Harry reciprocated with a gentle pull at Louis’ trousers, signaling he wanted them off. Louis pushed his trousers down to his ankles before tugging Harry’s shorts down all the way, the lad stepping out of them immediately. Both boys didn’t seem to mind that their clothing was haphazardly strewn across an unsanitary toilet’s floor.
Louis had to practically shove Harry away from him to break the kiss, causing the boy to moan in protest. He pumped a couple pumps of hand lotion into his palm and coated the fingers in the cream generously.
“Turn around and put your hands on the toilet lid,” he instructed, Harry complying and sticking his pale bum into the air wantonly with his legs spread as far as they could. .
Louis caressed the boy’s smooth arse with his dry hand, moaning, before gently spreading his bum cheeks open, exposing Harry’s untouched hole. He teasingly circled the puckered skin with the pad of his lotion-slicked thumb before easing it in so very slowly. Louis continued feeding his thumb into the boy’s arse at an excruciating speed, then pulling back out equally as slow. He pressed in again, then back out again, eliciting a frustrated groan out of the thirteen-year-old.
“Ugh, please Lou,” Harry begged, “we don’t h-have a lot of, ahh, a lot of time…”
“So eager,” Louis whispered as he sped up the thrusting of his thumb in and out of Harry’s hole.
Louis pulled his thumb out quickly, only to replace it with three of his slicked fingers. Harry gasped when Louis shoved his three fingers in all at once and began thrusting them in and out of the boy’s body, not even giving him time to adjust. Harry groaned in pain. He felt as if Louis would tear something and he wondered if he was bleeding out of his bum.
“Ahh, oww,” Harry panted, his eyes wrenched shut and his knees and elbows threatening to buckle.
“You told me to hurry, Haz, we can stop if-”
“NO!” Harry sharply objected. He wanted this too much for just a little pain to stop him; and from what he’s read, the pain should go away once Louis finds his- oh.
Harry practically squealed in pleasure when Louis’ fingers found his sweet spot. Each time the pads of the older lad’s fingers hastily brushed over that certain spot, Harry felt a spurt of pleasure course through the nerves of his lower body, back, and abdomen. The spot was so sensitive, in a way that it was almost too much when Louis curled his fingers and rubbed at the area somewhat roughly.
Harry felt every muscle in his body tense up with each little pulse of pleasure; he just needed to let off some of the pressure. He reached his hand up to grab at his own dick but before he could, Louis ripped his fingers out of Harry’s bottom and swatted his hand away from his cock. Harry let out a high whine as Louis slicked his cock up with some more of the hand lotion.
The empty feeling was soon diminished when Harry felt the slippery head of Louis’ bare, wide cock nudging at his stretched hole. Louis wrapped his messy hand around Harry’s bony hip, while his clean hand covered Harry’s mouth for the sounds he knew were about to come.
“Take a deep breath baby. In…. and,” Louis quickly pushed his dick into the boy’s arse hole, “out.”
Louis held the boy steady as he buried his cock to the hilt in one unwavering thrust. His hand clamped around Harry’s mouth firmly as the boy screamed a muffled “ohh!”. Louis began thrusting at a steady pace immediately, not having the time nor the self-control to take it slow. As his thrusts picked up speed, Harry shook his head violently.
“It’ll come, babe,” Louis assured the lad, but after several more thrusts, Harry was still shaking his head and scratching and grabbing at Louis’ hand over his mouth. He was just not enjoying it.
There was no way, absolutely no way Louis was going to stop. He just could not; and he wanted to show Harry a good time. So he pulled out of his arse, but immediately spun him around and scooped the boy up, hands under his thighs, and pressed Harry’s back against the wall. Before Harry had a chance to question, Louis collided their mouths together whilst simultaneously slamming his cock up into the boy’s hole.
Harry shouted directly into Louis’ mouth, nodding harshly, his chin banging against Louis’. Louis smiled as he continuously slammed the head of his cock against Harry’s prostate. With a combination of thrusting his hips upward and sliding Harry’s body down onto his dick, Louis created a steady rhythm of thrusts.
Harry broke the kiss to lay his head on Louis’ shoulder and wrap his arms around the man’s neck. He immediately began assaulting Louis’ neck with nibbles, kisses, and sucks- creating a blossoming red bruise. Soon both lads were breathing raggedly, struggling to keep quiet, aside from Harry’s soft yet filthy moans directly pouring into Louis’ ear.
Harry used his arms and legs to wring his body tighter around Louis’, his pre-come soaked cock sliding marvelously between their stomachs. He felt the pulses of pleasure all start to blur into one constant string of stimulation, and he knew he was close.
“Louis, I’m,” Harry groaned, hardly able to speak, “I’m gonna come,”
Louis simply nodded and increased his hydraulic-like thrusts to a manic speed. Harry came first, shooting his small load onto both of their abdomens, his nails cutting into Louis’ back as his muscles went through a series of pleasurable contractions, before bottoming out into a steady state of post-orgasmic bliss. The long, high-pitched moan Harry produced as he came, paired with the contracting muscles around Louis’ cock were enough to make the older man climax right into Harry’s shuddering body.
Louis lifted Harry off of his cock and was just placing his feet back on the ground when a startling, sharp knock sounded at the door.
“Is everything okay in there?” a woman’s voice, sounding quite alarmed, sounded through the door.
The boys turned to each other, both with the same deer-caught-in-headlights look, as Harry silently mouthed shit!
“Erm, yeah, sorry,” Louis finally said, his voice practically dripping in fear.
The boys both made haste of getting redressed, Harry wiping his own stomach along with Louis’ with a messy wad of toilet paper, then swiping at Louis’ come that was dripping out of Harry’s sensitive bum. Louis listened at the door whilst Harry checked himself in the mirror, discovering that he bit his lip enough to draw blood. When Louis decided it was safe to exit, Harry walked quickly and nervously back to his seat.
Lous checked himself in the mirror and washed his hands before exiting the loo himself. Just as he was about to step into the aisle, he hear the same woman behind him say “Sir, pardon me,”
His face went pale and his fingers went numb as he turned to the air hostess behind him. “Yes?”
“Sir, is your son okay? Does he need anything?” the woman offered with concern.
“Er… no,” Louis says, at first not understanding; then, with more confidence, “oh, no, Harry’s fine.”
Meanwhile, Harry looked on nervously from his seat. His parents were amazingly still fast asleep, but his palms were sweating at how long Louis had been talking to the woman who had knocked on the door of the loo. Surely, something must be wrong, Harry thought.
After a few minutes Louis was returning to his seat, slumping back into it in both exhaustion and releif. He turned to the absolutely wrecked looking boy sat next to him, and began to laugh. Harry slapped him in the arm with not enough strength to hurt, with a whispered “What the fuck!”
“She thought you were my son, and that you were ill. I told her you spilt your apple juice and I was helping you clean your shirt off.”
“You had me fucking shaking in my seat, Lou! I was terrified!” Harry scolded, before letting out a big yawn and laying against Lou’s shoulder.
“It’s fine, baby,” Louis cooed as he smoothed out the younger lad’s beautiful brown curls, leaning down to inconspicuously kiss Harry on the forehead.
Harry woke up, what felt like seconds later, to an empty seat beside him. He looked up panickedly to see everyone exiting the aeroplane, and Louis was nowhere to be seen. He felt the seat beside him and it was still warm. Harry tried to stand up, get into the aisle, and find Louis, but it was far too crowded.
“Lou!” he called out to the crowded line of people in the aisle.
“Who?” was his only response, from his mother still sat in the seat in front of him.
“Oh…” Harry replied sadly, “nothing.”
Once the aisle was clear enough, Harry grabbed his backpack , slung it over his shoulders, and followed his parents off of the aeroplane. He tried looking around as he exited the airport, tried looking around even as they waited in the car park for a tram. Louis was nowhere; he was gone.
Harry felt like crying the entire way home. He thought he’d forged a connection with Louis. Sure, they rooted for rival football teams and yeah, Harry was half his age… but he really liked Louis. He’d thought that maybe since they’d had a lot in common, and they lived in neighboring towns, that maybe they could be together. Harry began to feel absolutely stupid for thinking someone like Louis would want some thirteen year old lad like him. He began to feel mad at himself for naively believing that he’d found the perfect guy on a 1.5 hour flight. He began to feel filthy and slutty for losing his virginity to some older bloke he’d just met.
When Harry finally arrived to his house in Holmes Chapel, he felt like doing nothing more than trudging up to his room and throwing himself onto his bed. He groaned into the pillow before rolling over on his back, wincing at the sharp pains shooting from his bum all up his back and down his legs. Not only did they hurt, but they reminded him of his own stupidity.
Harry slowly sat up and opened the zip of his backpack, searching for a painkiller. When he opened the front pocket of his backpack, Harry found a napkin from the aeroplane shoved messily inside. Harry didn’t remember putting that there; he crinkled his forehead in confusion as he fished the napkin out and unfolded it.
Written in the most beautiful, messy scrawl of a handwriting Harry’d ever seen, was a note that made him shout out loud in excitement.
“Had a great time, Harry. Here’s my mobile - 08201357152. xx Lou”
Harry immediately fumbled in his pockets to grab his mobile, the painkillers he needed long forgotten. After typing in Louis’ number, Harry contemplated what he should say. He didn’t want to sound too immature, but then again Louis was quite a childlike bloke. After what felt like years of nitpicking every idea that he had come up with, Harry settled on the ever-simple “hey sexy, guess who?”
He shrieked like a school girl as he hit ‘send’, bouncing up and down in his bed anxiously awaiting Louis’ reply. After exactly six minutes (Harry counted), his phone buzzed.